Forgiveness
by Melain
Summary: Sieries of Oneshots revolving around Apologies and Forgiveness. Everyone screws up but admitting it is sometimes the hardest part... Some hikari yami bonding stuff, but more will have shonenai. 1RxB 2MxYM
1. Sleep

Short cute oneshot. Kinda pointless, but I felt I needed to post something. Song used while writing is 'You and Me' by Lifehouse (on repeat).

The whole fic is in Ryou's POV. Ryou being the hikari.

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**_Disclaimer:_** Melain doesn't own Yugioh or any of its characters! She aslo doesn't own 'You and Me' by Lifehouse.

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_"Forgiveness is the fragrance the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it." – **Unknown**_

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Forgiveness. 

I've heard that to say "I forgive you" is the hardest thing to say to a person next to "I'm sorry" and "I love you."

Strange; apologizing and giving forgiveness is as essential to my day as breathing.

I lean my head back against your door; snowy white hair slipping off my shoulders and water-falling down my back. The hallway is dark, shadows consuming every bit of it; including myself. I close my eyes and just imagine your light breathing; your face relaxed and pale lips free of that ever-present scowl. You're so peaceful when you sleep, you have no worries and all your anger just vanishes; I know, I can feel it. I also know… that sometimes you wish you would just never wake up…

…I guess… living for over 5000 years can make one really tired of… living.

You worry me; I don't think you know that, and even if you did I don't think you'd care. I also wish you would understand that when I say I forgive you, or do something to show that I forgive you, that I mean it. You think that after how you lived your life, and everything you've done to ruin mine, there is no possible way that I could ever forgive you.

But I do.

And you always ask why… but that's a rhetorical question on your part. You just ask to make a point. That I'm insane for forgiving you; that you don't deserve forgiveness. I think your wrong; so I still forgive you, no matter what you think.

I just wish you would acknowledge that.

I open my eyes, only to be met by the shadows; the hallway is so dark and there aren't any objects to bend the light. So the shadows roam freely…sort of like you. With the pharaoh out of you reach for now, you get to do whatever you want. I don't, I'm stuck with a routine till I graduate; one I can't break free from. I watch the shadows move along the wall and floor. I've grown use to the shadows, living with you. But the shadows _love _you; you are the darkness, you help the shadows exist…

…they say that light cannot exist without darkness…

…does that mean I wouldn't exist without you?

Standing up, I face your door; listening intently for any sound on your side. Nothing. Carefully, my numb fingers gently turn the doorknob, and I open it just enough so my thin form can slip inside…so the door won't creak. Closing it silently behind me, I hold my breath and watch you for any movements; please tell me I didn't wake you. No, you're still asleep. Releasing my breath, I softly pad over to your opposite side of the bed; silently kneeling down on the floor.

Slow, steady breathing emits from pale lips and you shift lightly in your sleep; sighing deeply and pulling the sheets closer to you. A small smile crosses my own lips, you really do seem different in your sleep. I wish I could sleep peacefully like you do, but my dreams are plagued with nightmares. I wonder if you know about them; would you care? Or would you ignore it like everything else that effects me, even though my nightmares are something you could help me with… without even trying. I wish I could just crawl into bed with you; your presence does comfort me, no matter how many times you say it doesn't.

You call me stupid, annoying, weak; I suppose those are all true. Your past 'jobs' have effected my life greatly, hurt me even, put me in danger, almost gotten me killed; you say I should have no grounds to even think of forgiving you. That every time I say it, I don't really mean it; you say such things like you can read me like a book. If you'd try, you could; but you don't, and that's why you're wrong.

You may have done all of those things, and call me hurtful things, treat me like dirt…but the reason I forgive you is…you're still here. You have your own body now, you could have left six months ago; but you didn't. You've been here with me for over three years now. No one's ever stayed with me for so long; you're here when I leave in the morning, and still here when I get home from school. You at least acknowledge me, even if it is in insults. I…I may not have any friends…or family…but I keep forgiving you because I know that I still have you.

I rest my hand on the bed, watching you attentively to see if you wake. I'm always so quiet when I come in; I never really figured out if you're a light sleeper or not. Gingerly I rest my other hand on the bed, and then add some weight; but you don't even twitch. Carefully, I climb onto your bed… and you don't even notice.

It must be nice, to be able to sleep without waking at the slightest noise. I'm a light sleeper, I guess it only makes sense that you would be a deep one. I sit there, tilt my head a little so my hair once again falls off my shoulder; you still don't know I'm here. Your breathing is still light, your face and body still relaxed; I would have thought a thief would have known of my presence by now. Maybe it's like a sixth sense thing, where you know if the other presence is a threat or not. I'm pondering right now what you would think…or do if you woke up and I was next to you. Would you freak out…most likely, or just tense up and wonder what the hell happened last night. I cover my mouth suppressing my laughter.

I sit there for quite a while, maybe an hour or so, just watching you sleep. Sleep starts to weigh heavily on my mind; I yawn softly, and tense a little when you make a noise in your sleep as a response to mine. Even in your sleep your voice is deep and rich. You shift again and moan a little as you settle back into your bed; I relax now knowing your asleep and go back to watching you. Quite drowsy now, my mind drifts off a little…

…You know you're rather… handsome. Wild silver hair, rich dark chocolate eyes, a quite seductive smirk, strong face, attractive body; you really are quite stunning… what do you think when you see me? I'm just a weakling in your eyes, like you say I am? Moonlight filters through your window and washes over the room. Your silver hair seems to catch it… it must be soft, despite how sharp it usually looks…and then I suddenly realize I've been stroking your hair for the past few minutes; I snatch my hand away, now fully awake again. I can't believe I just did that! You make a sound of disapproval, scrunching up your face and scowling a little. I slowly blink my mud-brown eyes…did you…just…

Carefully, I reach out again; softly running my fingers through your hair. Your face relaxes, and you sigh deeply. My mouth is open slightly in astonishment; and I let my hand slid down to graze against your cheek. Smooth, well-toned skin meets my fingertips; and I inch a little bit closer to you.

Suddenly your hand shoots out and grabs my arm, and I yip a little in surprise. Oh my god you're awake! Before I can react I'm pulled on to the bed next to you, and your warm strong arms are around me. Your fingers graze against my waist where my shirt has ridden up; what are you doing! I'm pulled into your chest…and that's when I find out that you don't sleep with a shirt on. A deep red blush heats my face as I'm pressed up against your chest, my face buried in your neck. One of your hands reach out and you pull the covers over both of us…

…and then you stop moving, sighing again and relaxing against the bed; and I feel you nuzzling into my hair, inhaling deeply. Your breathing is still light…which means you're still asleep. Oh. My. God. I'm still tense; and I can't move without waking you up…and… this bed is quite warm. I find sleep weighing down on me again; for some reason I'm really rather confortable. Sighing, I relax a little; involuntarily I might add. It must be at least past two, no wonder I'm tired. I breathe in your scent, exotic and spicy at the same time; and find myself nuzzling your neck. You moan a little again, your throat vibrating against my cheek; and through our link, I feel you smile. You tighten your hold on me, and I find I can comfortably curl up to you; you're so warm…and I feel so safe…

…I hope one day you do realize I forgive you. That I will always forgive you. Because you're here for me, you protect me, you make me feel safe…and I adore you…

…I think…I…I may even… love you…

…and if you ever decide to read my mind… you'll know that too…

Tenderly, I nuzzle your throat again; and hope that I can do this again some night. And that you don't push me away in the morning, because I know tonight…I'll sleep just fine.

Good night my yami…I love you…

…and as I drift off, I hear his deep rich voice softly in my ear. "I love you too…my light."

_**-Owari-**_

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Aww… cute but kinda sluggish.

I might write it a two-shot and write about Bakura waking up. I don't think I'll make it a full fic. If you have any ideas please tell me.

To those who still don't get it (probably because I wasn't clear enough), at the end, it meant that Bakura did know Ryou really meant it when he forgave him, because he always does read his mind (the whole thing was in Ryou's POV, therefore in his mind...he heard everything okay)…and Kura loves him back! XD Cute fluff. Anyway…

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

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_- Melain_


	2. Fight

Okay; I'm really sorry but **THIS IS NOT THE SECOND CHAPTER TO THE FIRST CHAPTER!!! **Please read this, it will explain everything:

I'm so going to loose favorites for this but I decided to make this a series of my one-shots that seem to revolve around forgiveness. Pairings will most likely be used more than once and scattered everywhere. My favorite characters two write about are my two white-haired bishies and my two blonde-Egyptian bishies; but I'll add some others just to keep you all from being bored.

If you don't like this idea tell me. And then I'll just delete this chapter and post a completely different story that will contain my one-shots. Not all will be shonen-ai, but I don't do hetro stuffs, sry.

Anyway, this is a Malik and Marik thing. It's weird and not as well written as the other chapter. This one is actually quite crappy, which is why I hadn't posted it on this story till now. It can be shonen-ai… if you want it to be. If you squint and turn your head to the side you might see it. But this is a little deeper than the other chapter.

I hope some of you like it, and I want to thank everyone for all the wonderful reviews last chapter! XD It made me feel like a real writer, you know… the kind that writes stuff other than crap? Yeah. Thanks you guys! I lovers you all, and I'm sorry if I disappointed you with not doing a second chapter to the original forgiveness story. I just couldn't find a plot I was happy with. If I ever do I will get it up I promise!

Okay… onto _this _story.

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**_Disclaimers:_** Melain doesn't own YGO or any of it's characters. And doesn't own any of the Breaking Benjamin songs mentioned either…

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"_The hatred you're carrying is a live coal in your heart - far more damaging to yourself than to them.__" -_**_Lawana Blackwell

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Rock music blasted from the next room; deep haunting base beats shaking the four walls and undistinguishable lyrics seeping through the thin wall between them. Some words could be made out "you're so cold…. Show me how….that's alright, let's give this another try-" The music was somewhat depressing, but it was obvious that when you could tell what it was the song was powerful. His heart clenched in his chest at the thought and at the faint music he could make out while leaning against the before mentioned wall. Lavender eyes watched the ceiling fan spin lazily in the blue-lit room. The rain beat against the window while the late afternoon sky shed nearly no light, causing the blue light patterns to wash over the room. Despite the rain, though, the house was extremely hot. It was somewhat comforting to the two Egyptians currently residing there.

Pale blonde hair fell about bare bronze shoulders; a loose black tank top allowing the heat to surround him in the still blue room. It was a sanctuary that held a sorrow and regretful air; an air that was constantly stirred by the fan blades and blown softly against him. A light sheen lit across his face, highlighting high cheek bones and a relaxed jaw line. It was getting dark; he kept thinking idly that he should turn on a light or something. But his mind felt so separate from his body. Completely relaxed against the wall in a comfortable warm environment that never moved but had constantly changing shadows. He was completely numb; the slightest twitch would wake everything up and then the meditative sanctuary would be lost.

He needed this; time to think to himself. Time to be by himself, and time to beat himself up. They always fought, he and his yami; two controlling-dominant personalities that always clashed no matter what. Someone would have to give in, but no one ever did. He was too stubborn, and his yami had too much pride. Sometimes it got pretty ugly; the hikari had ended up sporting a black eye a few times, or a nasty bruise. Though his yami didn't go unscathed during those incidents either, a bruise of his own… and sometimes bite marks. Who said hikari's couldn't fight dirty?

But he ended up regretting it afterwards and sometimes trying to apologize, though it usually ended up in another spat. Malik could just never win with his yami… no matter how hard he tried.

And quite frankly, he was tired of it.

The song had changed; it was rough for a while like the others. Some phrases he caught "This was a simple design… you fuck it up every time" but then it changed, it got a little softer and more meaningful, though he couldn't hear the words. Then it suddenly became slower. Mariku had a tendency to listen to really hard rock when he was mad; especially after a big fight like the one they had just had. Malik didn't even remember what it was about anymore, he could probably recall it if he wanted to. But his mind was drifting too much. And the pain that was radiating from his jaw kept interfering with his thoughts. The bruise was probably pretty bad if it still hurt this much; he hadn't left his room for a few hours. Hell, he probably hadn't left that spot on his bed, leaning against his and Marik's wall, for a few hours. He silently wondered if the scratches on Marik's arm had bled.

Yeah, it got bad. Now that Malik was on the subject; the fight had drug a bunch of stuff into it. But had started with Marik being out till three in the morning and coming home so drunk he passed out of the stairs after breaking something or other by the door… a lamp or something. Isis had got on him about it so he got on Marik about it and… things led to a pretty heated argument. Then Malik had said something that pushed it a little too far and Marik had punched him square in the jaw. The shock had only lasted a few seconds till Malik completely lost his temper and had literally launched himself on Marik. The fight didn't last long. Marik finally pinned him and looked ready to hurt him though Malik had a plan to do some damage as well when the phone rang. What was it about telephones that ruin any moment whatsoever… good or bad. They had come to their senses, Marik had let Malik go; shut himself in his room and hadn't come out.

The music wasn't completely hard rock anymore; that was the yami's signal to Malik that he wouldn't die if he came and confronted him. Malik lowered his eyes, he neck waking up rather rudely from not moving for so long. It was now so dark the entire room was in shadows. The digital clock across the room read 7:56 p.m. He had been in his room for nearly four and a half hours. His yami had been in his for over five.

Malik had no reason to apologize, so he had no intension to do so… for starting the fight. Though he felt he should at least check on his yami and apologize for the scratches and bruises that probably littered his yami's body… and at least try to make amends. Without starting another fight.

He had never felt so tired as he did now; tired of the fights and the arguments. The two had a bond though they denied it often. It was times like now that it started to kick in; after he had been apart from his yami both physically and mentally. It put a strain on his soul, stretching it so thin that it started to pain him. He knew his yami felt it too; this was when the roles switched and his yami was too stubborn to give in to it, but Malik would let go of his pride and usually confront his yami. They both knew that there was only one way to fix this. But both would ignore the soulful hurt until it was almost unbearable.

Though this time was different. Malik's head felt stuffed, and he felt tired. Mentally and physically and in his soul as well. Everything seemed to be heavy and hard to bear; the only solution that came to mind was collapse and hope it would leave him when he found the strength to get up. A slight loneliness became apparent and Malik finally shifted his position, rousing his body from its sleep. It protested in various aches and pains, particularly in the parts that were injured during his fight with his yami. But he stood, bare feet against the carpet. The heat became more apparent as he moved towards the door; the black tank top was extremely loose and he wore a pair of dark blue boxers as well. The heat would have been unbearable to anyone else.

Tousling his blonde locks a bit, he opened the door only to find the hallway only slightly less dark than his room. A faint golden light shown from under the door next to his and the music was louder out here too. A song ended just as he stood there, and he knocked on the door just loud enough for his yami to notice. A hard song sound up as he opened the door. Marik wasn't going to answer him, he knew better. If he had answered him then it would have been to tell him to fuck off. The light wasn't blindingly bright, he was thankful for that; his yami lay across his black bed spread, a similar black tank top and a pair of light kaki pants as well. His hair was screwed more than usual, and he looked tired too. Malik leaned against the door frame; scanning his yami's muscular arms and smiled a little to himself at the scarring scratches. Though no bruises were visible in this light, he hoped silently there were at least a few. Marik caught his gaze, looking at his arm a moment and back at his hikari.

"Did they bleed long?" Malik asked, his voice cutting through the music clearly. Marik shrugged. His hikari snorted before looking at the ground for a moment. "Do I even have to say I'm sorry for attacking you or can we just skip that part?" Lavender eyes looked back up at blank wine colored ones expectedly, though still lazily. An audible sigh came from the other side of the room.

"Do I still have to apologize to your sister from breaking the fucking lamp?" Came the low voice of his yami, the Arabic words rolling off his tongue in almost a purr. His voice usually sounded like that in their native language.

Malik shrugged again, averting his gaze in boredom once more. "Probably. But you don't have to apologize to me." This time when he looked up Marik was squinting at him, probably trying to see him in this light. His yami sat up, sighed, and motioned for him to come in the room. Malik shut the door and picked his way across the room, through the various articles of clothing and other objects strewn along the floor. As he neared he felt his yami wince slightly; he sat down and his yami got a good look at him in the lamp light.

He was surprised when warm fingers lifted his chin up and turned his head to the side; his yami inspected the painful bruise, fingertips grazing them lightly. Malik didn't flinch but his eyes winced telling all the yami needed to know. The bruise was pretty bad, he hadn't thought he had hit him that hard. His thumb lightly stroked his cheek, and Malik's dazed mind had a hard time comprehending what his yami was doing. Till his yami's voice could be heard over the dull sound of the ever playing music, "I'm sorry." He hadn't even realized he had closed his eyes till he opened them; lavender once again boring into a strange wine color, only with a much shorter distance. Strands of pale blonde hair were in his eyes- not the time to think about that! He tried to look away, shaking his head a little to make his yami let go of his chin.

"It's alright-" he cut himself off when his yami brought his face back towards him, catching his gaze again. It was then that the soulful fatigue and loneliness reflected in Malik's eyes. He couldn't hide how tired he was, and how much he wanted everything to just move on. Marik's face was the same as always, emotionless. Blank eyes always calculating and features void of any sentiment; Malik would have gotten worried after a few minutes had passes as his yami searched his soul through his eyes. But he couldn't find the strength to even do that; he couldn't show his yami that the fatigue was effecting his as much as it was though.

"You need to rest," came his yami's voice again. Malik managed to give him a look that read 'no duh dipshit'; but Marik merely pushed him onto the bed. His hikari blinked a bit, confused for a moment, but then didn't think anything of it as his body relaxed against the bed. He closed his eyes as his yami lowered himself next to the teen that looked so identical to him. Despite the warmth, he pulled the other blonde close to him, burying his nose into the pale blonde locks and feeling a foreign calmness radiate from his lighter half. It seeped into his mind through their link, and he found himself drifting off.

Nothing needed to be said between the two; just being that close, and the acceptation that they gave each other was all that was needed to heal their battle wounds and ready them for whatever life had in store for them the next day. No matter how much they fought, or what words were exchanged, or actions that were took; in the end all that was needed to fix whatever had happened was for both light and dark to accept that they are one in the same. The sun set, the moon rose, the day ended, and life moved on.

And another fight always lay somewhere in the near future.

_**-Owari-

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It took me forever to write that last line and I still don't like it!

If you all actually like this idea of the series of one-shots I swear to fill the other one up with TONS of fluff! This was a little too depressing.

**PLEASE REVIEW!!!!

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_- Melain_


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